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Sack of Organs

Recently, after a beer, chocolate and Gogglebox coma, my mother approached me with the rather gauzy question of ‘what is your calling in life Rachel?’. A question I had considerable trouble countering. Racking my brains, I listed off my talents. I can draw to a reasonable degree, crush a can between my shoulder blades and currently hold the family record of ‘most vomits overseas’, a title we as a family, take exceptionally seriously. So basically I am a walking, talking talentless sack of organs. Shit. A few nights later, with a bunch of my nearest and dearest, we decided as every gaggle of 98 year old women do, to play a few board games. Out came the cards, Cluedo and our false teeth – we were ready to get down. As pure instinctual skill took over my usually talentless sack of organs, I finally found my true calling. Mum, Dad, I am a bona fide Cluedo L-E-G-E-N-D, no gimmicks.

My new-found aptitude has begun to inspire me in other, non-homicidal ways, namely my sartorial skills. This outfit just screams Miss Scarlett with the candlestick in the conservatory. With an ashy baby pink colouring, this frock hides even the most savage blood splatters and its deep pockets can conceal your weapon of choice or you know, the answer cards. It’s just bloody pretty – no pun intended.